


Lay Me Down

by mrssjsmith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Happy Ending, Hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 15:37:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10166147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrssjsmith/pseuds/mrssjsmith
Summary: "Please. I give you my word. Anything. Just...please."





	

**Author's Note:**

> So you might find another work with the same name. It is actually the same work! However, I am a complete dumbass and posted it under anonymous instead of mrssjsmith. And then, THEN, I had no clue what I was doing and I ACCIDENTLY ORPHANED this piece. :/ Like my comment in the other work says, it was not a good day. Hopefully this is posted correctly. If not then screw it.

** _Yes, I do, I believe_ **

** _That one day I will be_ **

** _Where I was right there_ **

** _Right next to you_ **

Calloused fingers grip the quilt tightly. White knuckles standing out against dark tan, skin. It had been a gift. The first of many they received out of love and kindness. He had loved that ugly thing.  He  remembers being wrapped up with him on the couch, wherever they landed, watching old Star Trek reruns and arguing the benefits of the Vulcan nerve pinch verses Darth Vader’s force choke. It was an old frequent argument that they could never seem to resolve and didn’t really care to.

** _And it’s hard_ **

Some days he can’t make himself get out of bed. The darkness almost dragging him down. Sinking into the mattress as if hell is attempting to pull him back down through his spot on the bed. Weightless yet heavy at the same time. No direction to go and no thought about tomorrow. He knows he’s depressed but he can’t bring his self to really care.

** _The days just seem so dark_ **

** _The moon and the stars_ **

** _Are nothing without you_ **

He misses hunting. The open road but he can’t anymore. Closing his eyes he pulled up an old favorite memory. The sun warming the leather seats, the Impala’s growl as she aggressively moved down the open road. He could see the hills rolling by, clouds rolling in and the away, never staying long enough to provide a break the summer heat, everything looking new and fresh and yet so familiar it made him ache. He could feel the sweat rolling down his spine, sticking to his back. His jeans hot then cold in turn against his skin. It was sweltering but he wouldn’t change a thing. Every summer he would find them hunts in the desert. They would become people of the land. No hotels, no air, no people. Just him, his best friend and the monsters they choose to hunt.  His brother would call ever couple days to check on them but other than that it they fell off the grid.

** _Your touch, your skin_ **

Olive tone and perfect. Soaking in warmth of the sun and sharing it back with him. Strong and smooth, supple and beautiful. He wished he was an artist. He would cover canvases  with this masterpiece of flesh and soul before him. He would selfishly keep them for himself. He often proudly show him off on his arm in public. Ignoring the looks shot their way. The scruffy mechanic and the tax accountant. So mismatched they were poeticly perfect for each other. Light and dark meshing together in such harmony even God himself couldn't create it in one person _._

** _Where do I begin?_ **

** _No words can explain_ **

They were he donistic and heathens. Neither needing nor wanting anything but each other to survive. The slide of callouses against scars. Stubble catching on chins and cheeks, bruising touches and scrape of short nails against hard muscle. Hot gasps of air greedily sucked in, no space between their lips and bodies. They created their own language, spoken only to each other. Public or private. Summer, fall, winter or spring. There was never a time when they weren’t in tune with each other. And it was so beautiful he still aches with the fullness of it.

** _The way I’m missing you_ **

That dirty coat. That ugly, ripped, stained, dirty coat. He couldn’t let go of it. It didn’t matter if he left it behind on purpose or accident. It didn’t matter how many miles or hours he had to drive, to retrace, to reach it again. He always found his way back to it. Heaven or Hell protect the person that would one day find it and throw it away. He knew he would bathe in their blood, unable to understand what was happening outside his own grief and despair. Feeling only his heart breaking over and over again, only to place his hand upon that faded material, to hold it close like a child, and to be rebuilt from the love coming in waves. How he loved and hated that coat. Unable to let go yet unable to forget.

** _Deny this emptiness_ **

He does not cry. He never has. But this. This will eventually break him in ways Hell never could.

** _This hole that I’m inside_ **

** _These tears_ **

** _They tell their own story_ **

** _Told me not to cry when you were gone_ **

** _But the feeling’s overwhelming, it’s much too strong_ **

He can’t battle it back any longer. He feels it well up inside him until his hard won control finally snaps. He doesn’t register the shatter until the whiskey makes is way to his nose. It’s pungent smell circling the room with help from the weak air conditioner. He grabs the next closest thing and throws it with all his might. A loud crunch gives him momentary satisfaction. Again and again until his arm is tired and his lungs are gasping for breath but still he doesn’t stop. The injustice. Hatred flares bright and righteous giving him adrenaline until it gives out as fast as it came to life.

** _Can I lay by you side?_ **

Covers stolen in the middle of the nught. Cold feet pressed against him no matter how he wiggled or complained _._

** _Next to you, you_ **

Shared spaces. Air, water, time. Personal space days were long over. The new normal of having or sliding hands around a his waist, his neck or back, little meaningful distractions that were savored, remembered. The drag of skin, warm and slightly rough. Lovingly running across their bodies, it was hard to tell where one left off and the other began _._

** _And make sure you’re alright_ **

** _I’ll take care of you_ **

He remembers his first flu. It was horrible. The complaints. Sneezes, runny nose and sorry throat. Midnight fevers and cold sweats. Trips to the store for medicine and tea mixed with just the right amount of honey. Dark circles under their eyes from less sleep than normal but he still treasured these moments of humanity. The little snippets and pockets in time here only he and thee existed togehter in their perfect world _._

** _I don’t want to be here if I can’t be with you tonight_ **

Sleep terrors plagued him almost nightly now. Blue eyes so bright he thought they would burn forever only to now be darkened eternally now. No more gummy smiles and too much flash of teeth. No more crinkled eyes glazed over in laughter or passion. Or love. He could only see now their dullness where the brightest soul he ever knew use to reside. For a time he was his. Too brief and yet still eternal _._

** _I’m reaching out to you_ **

His hand grips the quilt tighter. Almost ripping the seams in his grief. He hopes he rips it apart. But then again he doesnt. It's holds their first memories together. After all this time still so painfull and yet pure. Hesitant and unsure. So worried about moving too fast, inadequate touches, longings finally being breached with every gasp of breath, every quiet moan for more, more, more until they broke like waves upon sand. Becoming nothing and everything together. Together like they were made to be _._

** _Can you hear my call?_ **

He wakes up with his name on his lips again. Fighting back broken cries now. Ignoring tears leaving is eyes he sits on the edge of his, their, bed. Not their's actually but still he couldn't exclude him from anything or anywhere. Time does not in fact heal all wounds. It only digs them deeper. Missed conversations, missed touches, words, days, irreplaceable moments that could have been, should have been, snatched and held onto tightly. Greedily. But now slips through his fingers _._

** _This hurt that I’ve been though_ **

** _I’m missing you, missing you like crazy_ **

He cradles that dirty coat in his other arm. Refusing to let it go for the moment. He can imagine the heat still emitting from this material. The fresh clean smell, the way it moved as he walked or looked as it hung beside his own. The ache seems deeper at this moment. His heart now only functioning to keep him unwillingly alive. He misses his purpose, his best friend, his lover _._

** _Can I lay by your side?_ **

For a moment he imagines his presence. Always to his right. Warm and comforting. Stable and loving. Encouraging. Holding tight when asked, just resting to make sure they were together, brushing playfully or seductively when the moment was alive. Safe and secure for both. Over all the miles, dispite their differences, no matter how many arguments or long nights hunting they were together. They were home _._

** _Next to you,_ _you_ **

He can feel his hair tucked under his chin like they use to sleep. He can feel his breath ghosting over his neck. Awakening is senses. Leaving a trail of goosebumps across his skin. His heart beating in sync with his own _._

** _And make sure you’re_ _alright_ **

He imagines arms circling him. Keeping him safe and secure within his circle of love. This man is a hunter. Hardened by experience and by choices but if he could choose anything in the world at this moment he would choose him. Every single time _._

** _I’ll take care of you_ **

Sick days. Lazy days. Burnt toast and under cooked meat. Over priced gas and under appreciated landscape. Quiet moments and loud moments. Moments of anger and hurt. Moments of tender words and affection _._

** _I don’t want to be here if I can’t be with you tonight_ **

He knows he won't make it much longer. Soon he will make a mistake and it will end. Not today for today is over but maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. A mistake on his part maybe. Or because he won't be there to save him like use too. Either way they will finally be together again. The Righteous Man and the Fallen Angel. The dynamic duo _._

** _Lay me down tonight_ **

His heart is breaking silently. No one, not even his brother, can understand this pain. They had said the vows, had made their promises to each other. Under the sun and the heat with nature snd silence as their witness. Under the moon with the stars watching over them. Nothing was to come between them. And for a while all was well. More perfect than either could dream of. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years. It was blissfully perfect. And theirs. Until it wasn't. They were ripped apart violently. He wasn't sure this was a chasm he could breach by his self but now he had nothing left to lose. He would find a way sooner or later. He was hoping for sooner. Maybe tomorrow _._

** _Lay me by your side_ **

Warm hands sliding down his arms to intertwine fingers. The imagined heat a soothing presence to his tormented mind. He had one last idea. As much as he loathed the idea he knew he would do it for one last glance. On last touch. To see those blue eyes filled with the love he missed so desperately _._

** _Lay me down tonight_ **

The Righteous Man never raised in faith. Never had a reason until now. One last time _._

** _Lay me by your side_ **

_"_ Please. I give you my word. Anything. Just...please _."_

** _Can I lay by your side?_ **

It was harder than he anticipated. To push past the lump that seemed permanently lodged in his throat. He was The Righteous Man. The one destined to give up everything to save everyone else. But he learned that things don't always end up like planned. Case in point. He was thankful they had a chance to be greedy. To grab onto life with both hands and ring it for all they had. But he didn't think there would be a day that goes by he didn't wish for kore. He finally understood what drove his father all those years ago. For all those years of suffering but unable to stop. But he was tired. He had stopped all his own _._

** _Next to you_ **

Let it be know that The Righteous Man had broken. He was on his knees, eyes closed, hands clasped tightly. Desperate praying. Begging for those blue ryse one more time. "Please."

** _You_ **

“Hello Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WORK IS NOT BETA'd. All the mistakes are mine and I'm posting from my phone at the moment. AO3 doesn't like the way my phone transfers the work and the sentence puncatuon is all messed up. I am working on this so please be gentle in your judgment l. Any and all criticism is welcome.


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